


The Lion and the Bear

by TwiceBakedPotato



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Friendship/Love, M/M, intercision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceBakedPotato/pseuds/TwiceBakedPotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Barnes is not the man he used to be. Something is missing. </p><p> </p><p>Another character study for "The Architect of the World".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lion and the Bear

The apartment was dark except for the line of light shining through the thin gap between the thick, black curtains that shrouded the windows. Somewhere in the shadows, James Buchanan Barnes sat tucked into a corner, far from the light and even farther into his own mind where the shadows have faces and voices. They used to give him orders. Orders gave him purpose, even if that purpose was to kill. Now, no one gave him orders, and all he had was emptiness where Idella his bear daemon used to be. 

 

Ida was all James could think about. When everything else was gone, he still remembered the texture of her fur, the reassuring tone of her voice, the comfort of having her by his side. And he remembered how bad it hurt when they tortured her, when they severed her away from him. The way she sparkled like a firework when they killed her. The throbbing pain was still fresh all these years later, and burned in his chest like a hot coal. 

 

After it happened, he stopped eating or drinking unless someone put the food in his hand or straw in his mouth. He lived in a fog, stumbling through the motions of life. He seldom slept, and if he did, he did not dream. His mind was as vacant as his eyes.

 

When the door opened, James didn't look up, and he didn't react when Steve said, "This room is kinda stuffy, don't you think Buck?" He opened the curtains, letting the late afternoon sun bathe the room in orange light. Despite the sudden change in brightness, James did not even blink. 

 

During the day, Nurse Sharon Carter and her racoon daemon took care of James while Steve was at the Stark Institute. Steve always called James "Buck" or "Bucky", but the names aren't his. They belong to someone far in the past, just like the heart of the man who lifted him out of his corner and ushered him into the bathroom. 

 

Many times, Steve talked about days long past when Bucky took care of him, but James did not remember. All he could do was stand and watch as Steve turned on the shower. Steve was talking, but the thunder of water mixed with the static of his mind, turning the words meaningless. He wanted Steve to speak in a commanding voice to order him to snap out of his decade long lethargy. Bucky followed Steve's orders; James couldn't remember why. 

 

They showered together, or rather, Steve washed him while wearing the same red, white, and blue trunks he always wore beneath the layers of his black cassock marked with the golden chevrons of a captain. Captain Rogers was a busy man, assigned to monitor the activities of the genius experimental theologian, Tony Stark. Steve was important, and had more important things to do than bathe a daemonless zombie like James Barnes. If he could feel something, he might feel guilty. 

 

There was soap and shampoo, and the promise of a shave and maybe a haircut once they were finished. There were soft towels and rough brush strokes through his lank black hair. Bucky must have kept himself in order; James would rather turn himself over to nature. 

 

Steve Rogers was a more powerful force than nature. He was a lion of a man, all muscle and strength. His beautiful Margaret, a daemon lioness, was the perfect mirror of the man he was. He was the poster boy for the Magisterium, a symbol. A legend. And, once upon a time, Bucky and the Bear was part of that legend. 

 

Now, the legend couldn't brush his own teeth. 

 

"That Parker kid I told you about is coming over to take a photogram," Steve said as he guided James' hand. Toothpaste dribbled out of his mouth, but James didn't feel it. "You always liked sticking your nose in a camera, and the camera always liked you. Now spit."

 

James did as instructed, barely managing to hit the sink. Steve wiped the toothpaste mess off his chin and chest, and sniffled, but blinked away the tears. Margaret nuzzled against Steve's hip, but he didn't touch her. He felt guilty having her around Bucky, as if the catatonic man he now helped into his trousers knew she existed. The whole world could vanish, and James Buchanan Barnes would not notice. Thoughts like that made Steve want to give up hope. But giving up was not in his nature. 

 

"Tony keeps pestering me about you. Wants me to move you to his mansion," Steve said as he lathered Bucky's face with shaving cream. "I just worry you'll turn into a lab rat. Tony doesn't know how to stop working."

 

Steve talked about the new developments the scientist had made in his Dust research and laughed about how rebellious he felt using secular terminology, all while deftly removing the scruff leaving no foam and creating no nicks. The first few times were not so clean, but Steve had several years of practice now. 

 

Steve dressed him in clean pants and a shirt, carefully folding up the left sleeve where James no longer had an arm. That, too, was missing when they found him. And since James did not speak, no one knew how the limb was lost. 

 

James tried to follow the conversation, but the words did not reach him. Nor did the soft touch of Steve's fingers along his jaw. In the morning, Steve and his words and presence would leave, and he would take his memories of Bucky with him. James would return to the darkness and his memories of Ida and the shadows who put the pain in his chest.


End file.
